Star Legion

by Tripp Ellis

  With the precision of a surgeon, Nolan skinned the beast, then quartered it and cut out the tenderloins. This was enough food to last for months. He cut the tenderloin into small filets, then skewered them on the tip of his sword so he could grill them over the flames. They were supple cuts of meat and would make for good eating.

  Mia severed the dramok’s horns and talons. They would fetch a good sum in the market. If Mia and Nolan were going to get off this planet, they needed goods to trade.

  Nolan grilled the filets to perfection. The only thing they needed was a little seasoning, but Nolan was grateful for the meal. Things could have turned out differently—the dramoks could've been the ones feasting.

  The two ate their fill, then waited for daybreak before setting out again. Nolan took as much meat with him as he could carry. It didn't take long for the extra weight to feel like anchors, dragging him down to the dirt. His boots clinked against the gravel, his chest heaved for breath. More than once, Nolan thought about leaving the dramok meat for the buzzards, and other dramoks. But he had no money, and nothing to barter with, other than what he carried.

  As the day wore on, his feet grew sore and his muscles burned. Traveling all day in the full sun created a stifling heat within the battle armor. His body was drenched with sweat. Even with his visor open, he felt like he was suffocating at times. Nolan had several things to be thankful for, though—dramoks weren't attacking them, at the moment. With any luck, they’d reached the city by nightfall.

  By the end of the day, Nolan's mouth was as dry as a desert. The city of Solanavi was on the horizon, maybe another half hour’s walk. It wasn't a sprawling mega-city by any stretch of imagination, but it was large for a colony settlement in a remote sector. Adobe style structures were nestled in the valley. It was the closest thing to an interstellar port in this hemisphere. Settlers from all over the region came to trade and barter goods and services. The marketplace was bustling, and you could find almost everything imaginable. There were multiple street vendors selling clothing, jewelry, farm animals, and food—though eating anything from a street vendor was taking your life in your own hands. Nolan and Mia walked through the streets, sizing the city up.

  Nolan stopped at one of the food vendors and inquired about selling his dramok meat. The street vendor had no interest in it, but pointed him in the direction of a butcher shop. Nolan didn't have to say anything when he walked into the establishment. The butcher took one look at the meat and knew Nolan was selling.

  "Dramok meat?"

  Nolan nodded.

  "How old is it?”

  "Fresh. Less than a day."

  The butcher was a gruff man that hadn’t shaved in a few days. He had dark hair, a round face, and a plump belly. His apron was stained with blood from the day's work. Marbled cuts of meat sat in cold displayed cases. The butcher eyed Nolan suspiciously. "How did you come by it?"

  "I killed it."

  "Impressive. Did you save the horns and talons?"

  Mia nodded.

  "I'll give you 500 credits for everything."

  Mia balked. “It's easily worth twice that."

  "Yeah, but who's going to pay you that much?"

  "It's a free market,” Mia said. “We can shop around."

  "Be my guest. I think you’ll find my offer is high."

  “Are we talking Imperial credits, or Republic credits?"

  "Republic credits."

  "750 for everything,” Mia said.

  The butcher pondered this for a moment. “625."

  Mia exchanged a glance with Nolan. He was good with the amount.

  "Done," Mia said.

  "Pending approval," the butcher responded.

  Nolan and Mia set the quartered meat on the counter, along with what was left of the tenderloin. The butcher looked over the meat and examined it carefully. He cut a small slice, smelled it, and ate it raw.

  It made both Nolan's and Mia’s stomachs turn. Some people found raw dramok meat to be a delicacy, but it wasn't something that sounded appetizing to either of them.

  "Does it meet with your approval?" Nolan asked.

  "It'll do. I've had better." The butcher was downplaying the quality of the meat. He knew damn good and well it was top-notch. He moved to the register and fumbled for some credits. "What did I say, 525?"

  "625," Nolan and Mia said in unison.

  "Right, right." He counted out the cash and handed it to Nolan, but he held onto it as Nolan gripped it. "And the horns and talons."

  "Sure," Nolan said.

  Mia handed over the valuable accessories. Dramok horns were often used in magic rituals. People would also grind them into a fine powder and mix them in tonics. They were said to have healing properties, and were also said to enhance libido.

  "I'm looking for transport off the planet." Nolan said. “Do you have any suggestions?"

  “Trade ships come in about once a month. You can buy passage, or you can pick up work as crew.”

  “We don't have a month to wait."

  The butcher hesitated a moment. "If you're desperate, you could try JT Murphy." He's out past Mutter’s ridge." The butcher looked like he regretted saying it as soon as the words slipped out of his mouth. "But, that's if you're desperate."

  Nolan looked curious. "What's wrong with JT Murphy?"

  36

  The blistering bolts from an old-school, pump action spell rifle slammed into the ground near Nolan and Mia.

  The two dove for cover as explosions near their feet showered dirt and debris into the air, pelting their armor. They hid behind two large boulders while JT Murphy blasted more haphazard shots in their general direction.

  "Get the hell off my property!" JT yelled with a thick, rural accent.

  He was a thin, wiry guy with red hair and a mustache. He stood in front of his house with his spell gun, wearing nothing but his underwear. He could barely stand and looked like he'd been hitting the bottle all day. A cigarette dangled from his lips, and fell to the ground when he spoke.

  "Shit," he grumbled to himself. He knelt down to retrieve the cigarette and almost fell over. He used the shotgun to steady himself as he stood back up.

  Nolan yelled from behind the rock, “We hear you have a spaceship."

  "So what if I do?"

  "We need passage to Mazarak. We’d like to hire you."

  Mia scowled at Nolan. "Are you sure we want to hire this guy?"

  "I can see we caught you at a bad time," Mia shouted. "We'll just be on our way. Don't shoot."

  JT swayed in the breeze as he pondered the situation. "How much we talkin’?”

  Nolan exchanged a glance with Mia. She shrugged.

  "300 credits," Nolan said, still hiding behind the rock.

  There was a long pause. “Are we talking Republic credits, or Imperial credits?"

  "Republic."

  "Good. The Empire can kiss my ass!” His eyes drooped and he looked like he was going to pass out. He dozed momentarily on his feet, then his head popped back up. "I believe I can accommodate your needs."

  Nolan and Mia cautiously stood up, emerging from behind the boulders.

  JT refocused his aim at Nolan. Though, in his condition, it was unlikely he would hit anything he intended. "You want to explain to me why you're dressed as an Imperial Soturi?"

  "It's a long story. I’ll tell you all about it."

  JT kept the spell rifle pointed at Nolan for a moment. "Let's see the money."

  Nolan dug into a pouch on his utility belt and pulled out the cash. "Half upfront, half when we reach our destination."

  JT hesitated a moment. "Deal."

  Nolan breathed a sigh of relief as Murphy lowered his weapon. “ JT staggered off, leading them around a large rock formation.

  A wave of disappointment washed over Nolan as he saw the ship which had been obscured by the formation. "Is that thing even space worthy?"

  JT glowered at Nolan. "If you can find something better, be my guest."

  It was a sma
ll skiff that could hold 4 to 6 people. It was dented and scarred, and lined with corrosion. It had to be at least 200 years old. There was no way this piece of crap was in working order, Nolan thought. It was doubtful the craft could even maintain atmospheric pressure. Even if it could, it would certainly break up upon re-entry. Nolan would be surprised if the pile of junk started.

  “When’s the last time you flew this thing?"

  JT's puzzled face contorted. "Maybe last year."

  His response didn't inspire confidence.

  "Trust me, she runs like a charm."

  Nolan could smell the whiskey on his breath as he spoke.

  "I reckon I ought to put some pants on before going to Mazarak. Let me grab a little something to eat, and we can get going."

  Nolan's face was bathed with concern. "Are you sure you're in proper condition to fly this thing?“

  "Proper condition? I’m in the best condition of my life."

  "I mean, don't you think you ought to sober up first?"

  JT looked at him like he was crazy. "Sober? What's that?"

  Nolan was beginning to think this was a bad idea.

  JT staggered back to the house. "I'm gonna make some coffee, want some?"

  "Sure," Nolan said, skeptically.

  Mia glowered at Nolan, not happy about the situation at all. She grumbled under her breath. "Surely we can find a better pilot?”

  Even though JT was about 20 yards away, he heard her perfectly. "No, little lady, you won't. Not around here," he said with a cocksure tone.

  JT's place was small and cluttered. Dishes were piled high in the sink like some type of modern art masterpiece. The structure was completely off grid, powered by fuel-cells. Moisture collectors pulled condensation out of the atmosphere and stored it in tanks which gave him running water.

  JT's food fabricator dispensed 3 cups of coffee instantly. He set them on the kitchen table before Nolan and Mia.

  "Cream, sugar?" JT asked.

  They both nodded.

  Nolan wasn't exactly sure about the cleanliness of the cup. But dirty mugs were the least of his worries. He mixed in the cream and sugar then took a cautious sip. His taste buds exploded with sumptuous rich tones. The coffee was surprisingly good.

  “How did you come by a food fabricator?" Nolan asked. They were extremely hard to come by, especially in remote locations.

  "Lucky trade," JT said.

  "You mind putting on some clothes?” Mia asked, perturbed.

  "Of course. Where's my manners. I'm not used to company." JT slipped into the bedroom and emerged a few moments later fully dressed. He strapped on a holster that contained a spell pistol, then grabbed his long rifle and put a hat on his head. "You ready to go?"

  Nolan nodded.

  JT guzzled the rest of his coffee. "Let's get cracking."

  He held out his hand. It took Nolan a moment to realize what he wanted. Nolan dug into his pouch and gave him half of the 300 credits. JT stuffed them in his pocket.

  “Where exactly are you going on Mazarak?”

  “That’s private,” Nolan said.

  “Well, it ain’t going be private for long. I’ve got to set you down somewhere.”

  “We’re looking for the Tomb of Eldür.”

  “Good luck finding that.”

  “I have a map, of sorts.”

  JT arched an interested eyebrow. “Can I see this map?”

  Nolan exchanged a wary glance with Mia.

  She shrugged, why not?

  Nolan pulled out the shimmering medallion and JT’s eyes rounded. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know the medallion was of considerable worth for the gold and jewels alone. “I’m thinking maybe I didn’t charge you folks enough.”

  “I think you’re charging plenty,” Nolan said.

  “ Well, I guess a deal’s a deal.” JT marched out the front door.

  Nolan and Mia followed behind him.

  JT pressed his hand on the bio scanner and locked the door behind him, then ambled to the skiff. He was still weaving from side to side, but it seemed the coffee had perked him up a bit.

  The trio climbed the ramp to the spacecraft. JT slid into the pilot seat and fastened his safety harness. He pressed buttons and flicked switches, and the control cluster came to life. He ran through a series of preflight checks—all systems came back green.

  Nolan sat in the copilot’s seat. He strapped himself down and looked over the craft with trepidation. "This is old-school."

  JT grinned. "They don't make them like this anymore."

  There was nothing magical about the craft. It was plain and simple, without enchanted technology. A relic of the old world. It was powered by an extended duration fuel-cell. When that was drained, JT would have to trade or barter for another. If one wasn't available, the craft would be no more than a huge eyesore.

  JT flicked a switch and sealed the back hatch. Another switch spun up the main engines. The craft rumbled as the thrusters roared to life. They weren't even airborne yet and loose panels were rattling.

  Mia swallowed hard, her eyes wide. She clutched the armrest of the chair, white knuckled. Her face was pale, and a thin mist of sweat beaded on her forehead.

  “Never flown before?" Nolan asked.

  Mia was too petrified to speak. She just shook her head.

  "It's not that bad." Nolan said, trying to reassure her, even though his faith in the craft was waning.

  JT engaged the vertical thrusters and the skiff lifted off the ground. The air rippled beneath the thrusters as the craft ascended. JT pulled back on the controls and angled the vehicle towards the sky.

  He throttled up the rear thrusters, and the force jolted Nolan against his seat back. The acceleration was intense. Nolan could feel his skin plastered against his skull from the G-force.

  JT grinned. "She's got some get up and go, doesn't she?"

  Nolan nodded.

  The skiff rumbled and shook as it blazed into the upper atmosphere. Nolan was sure the damn thing was going to fall apart. It was like traveling down a dirt road pocked with potholes at 100 miles an hour.

  About the time Nolan figured the craft was going to break up, the ride became as smooth as glass. He felt his ass lift from the seat as they entered the weightlessness of space. His safety harness was the only thing holding him down.

  Nolan glanced around the cabin. It seemed to be maintaining atmosphere. His gaze met Mia's. She looked pale and sickly, one step away from hurling. "You okay?"

  She managed a weak nod.

  “Mazarak is in that Draconis Major sector," Nolan said.

  "I know where it is,” JT responded.

  "It's roughly 2000 light years away. The ship isn’t big enough to have an FTL drive. I probably should've asked this before, but how exactly are we going to get there?"

  A mischievous grin curled up on JT's face. He pulled out an amber vile that contained a fine powder. He tapped out a little bit on the dash, then snorted it. He screwed the cap on the vial and stuck it back into his pocket.

  Nolan's eyes widened with surprise. "You're a bender?"

  “That will be our little secret. It's not something I advertise. The Empire tends to enslave us. I have no desire to jump Imperial dreadnoughts from one end of the galaxy to the other until my brain is fried."

  From what Nolan could see, JT's brain was already a little compromised. "How does it work?"

  "Beats the dog shit out of me?" JT said. "All I know is that little powder gets me high as all fuck. Allows me to be one with the Universe,” he said with a blissful smile. "Then I just think about where I want to go and, boom, I’m there."

  "But it’s addictive, isn't it? And it causes brain damage."

  JT pulled out a bottle of whiskey from a compartment in the center console. "That's why I stay lubricated. Protects against negative side effects."

  It seemed like far from an exact science. The benders aboard the dreadnought had jumped the ship across the galaxy thousands of times without issue. Ne
ver once did Nolan give it a second thought. But now, he couldn't hide his concern. "Have you ever ended up someplace other than where you intended?"

  JT thought about it. "Well… My whole life has gone a little bit different than I expected. Not exactly where I thought I would be."

  "No, I mean, have you ever jumped the ship—“

  "I know what you meant. It happens, sometimes. But it's no big deal. If we're in the wrong place, we just jump to the right place—as long as we don't transport too close to a star, or inside a planet. That could be bad."

  37

  JT grabbed the controls and closed his eyes. That's when things got weird.

  Time dilated.

  Nolan felt twisted. The skiff moved across space-time like gliding through a dream. For a fraction of an instant, Nolan couldn't distinguish himself from his surroundings, existing somewhere in the aether. Everything seemed to blur into one, like a crazy acid trip. Then everything snapped back to normal.

  The skiff emerged, gliding through the inky blackness of space near Mazarak. Over 2000 light years traveled in a fraction of a second. The whole process felt somewhat more intense than it had upon the dreadnought. Perhaps it was the smaller scale with a closer proximity to the bender?

  Nolan's eyes glanced back to Mia. "How are you holding up?"

  She gave the thumbs-up signal, but she looked like hell. "I don't think I'm a fan of space travel."

  "You’ll get used to it," Nolan said with a reassuring grin.

  JT angled the skiff toward the lush green planet that lay ahead. "What brings you to Mazarak? Why do you seek the Tomb of Eldür”

  “That’s private business."

  "Okay. Not trying to be nosy or anything. Just making conversation." He paused a long moment. "It's just that, no one ever comes here."

  "What do you mean?"

  JT started his descent into the planet’s atmosphere. The skiff rumbled and shook. The rattles were almost deafening. The craft soared through the clouds and plummeted to the surface.

  The planet looked like a tropical paradise. There were vast oceans and expansive rainforests. But there wasn't any sign of civilization—not that Nolan could see. Of course, he was only glimpsing at a fraction of the planet.